


religion's in your lips

by Zephyroh



Series: False Gods [1]
Category: Hololive, Hololive En, Virtual Streamer Animated Characters, holoMyth
Genre: Altar Sex, F/F, Porn with Feelings, no beta: we die like yagoo's dream, the altar is ina's hips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 04:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29362662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zephyroh/pseuds/Zephyroh
Summary: Ina immediately recognizes the footsteps as they hit the cobblestone, and a slow smile drags on her lips. The flaps on the top of her head perk up. Unmoving from her position, kneeling before the altar of the Old Gods, surrounded by the sweet smell of incense and the quiet voices in her head, she waits.When the voice speaks up, a beacon of light in the shrouded night of her mind, her heart flutters, as it has always done when hearing it.She wonders if Amelia Watson will ever cease to have this effect on her, someday. She hopes not.
Relationships: Ninomae Ina'nis/Watson Amelia (hololive)
Series: False Gods [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2156925
Comments: 9
Kudos: 148





	religion's in your lips

**Author's Note:**

> this was brought to you by taylor swift's lyrics that live rent free in my head

The voices in her head are in harmony, today. 

The sun is setting in the fresh air of the evening, basking the shrine in a soft, orange hue, casting shadows on the statues of the Old Gods, illuminating the Priestess at the altar. It’s a kind of quiet peace, an otherworldly moment of respite, and Ina is content. The smells of incense surrounds her, and the beast inside her mind is at rest. The eyes in the stone pillars seem like they’re glowing of a satisfied light, gazing upon their devoted servant. 

Ina doesn’t know how long she has been praying, but the stiffness in her bones is a good indicator. The world is silence around her. 

However, to the displeasure of her Masters, her world is not balanced - not until she hears the sound she had been longing for behind her.

Ina immediately recognizes the footsteps as they hit the cobblestone, and a slow smile drags on her lips. The flaps on the top of her head perk up. Unmoving from her position, kneeling before the altar of the Old Gods, surrounded by the sweet smell of incense and the quiet voices in her head, she waits. 

When the voice speaks up, a beacon of light in the shrouded night of her mind, her heart flutters, as it has always done when hearing it. 

She wonders if Amelia Watson will ever cease to have this effect on her, someday. She hopes not. 

“Oh no, did I miss the service, Priestess?”, Amelia mourns in an exaggerated fake remorseful tone. 

Ina rolls her eyes to the ornate ceiling as the corner of her mouth twitches up. She knows Amelia has never been fond of solemnities, and she also knows Amelia deeply respects her bond to the Ancient Ones, but she also likes to tease her relentlessly about it, and this day, she was apparently in a playful mood. 

Taking her time, Ina stands up, casually brushing the dust of her ceremonial robes before turning around, plastering a neutral expression on her face, forcing down the grin that was taunting her lips. 

“Worry not, I can always take time for a lost soul.”. 

Amelia’s eyes lit up at Ina’s attitude, taking the hint. She pushes her hands in her pockets, sauntering nonchalantly around the benches of the shrine, faking interest in the statues and painting covering the walls. Ina watches her intently, absorbing every detail of her, the way she was playing with her weight on her legs, hopping occasionally on a bench, only to jump back down, letting her hands brush against the stone, toying with a candle. She has always been fascinated by Amelia evolving in her world, the defiant reverence in her posture, the sharps words she held against Ina’s cursed Gods. 

“Do you have sins to confess, wanderer?”

Amelia’s lips tug upward and she turns to face Ina. However, the playfulness gives way to something else, a shadow crossing her face, settling in her eyes. It’s a familiar look to Ina, although she does not understand it. She wonders what sorrows, what calamities brew behind Amelia’s eyes, sometimes. She often craves to know, and fears it equally. 

“What if I’m not here for absolution, Priestess.” The way Amelia pronounces her title makes Ina shiver. She tenses her body, hoping it doesn’t show. “What if I’m here for damnation?” 

The look Amelia gives her leaves no room for interpretation, and Ina feels the flush creep up her neck. _Damn that detective, and the way she knows exactly how to push her buttons_. 

Ina puffs, and the tension breaks. Voluntarily, she deflects. “You’re so dramatic, Amelia.”

Amelia grins widely as she bends down, bowing in overt reverence. “Thespian is my middle name, my lady.”

Finally, she walks up to Ina, cupping her face to give her a tender kiss, and Ina melts like a prayer candle. 

“Hey you.”

Ina’s flaps twitch in delight and Amelia moves to kiss her nose. “Hey yourself.”

“Are you almost finished?”. Amelia’s tone is so hopeful that Ina’s heart twinges when she responds.

“Not quite. I’ve still got some preparations to do, and a session with the Book.”

As she wraps her arms around Ina, nuzzling her neck, Amelia grunts noncommittally. Ina’s body sinks into hers, as naturally as breathing, and she basks in the warmth of Amelia, forgetting momentarily her responsibility and duties. When she feels a tentative hand sneak to her ass, she can’t help but giggle. Detaching herself from the detective with a playful slap on the arm, she points an accusatory finger toward Amelia. 

“We are in a sacred place, behave.”

The light reprimands goes over Amelia’s head who merely grins innocently, putting her hands up in mock defense. 

“So what, I’m not allowed to touch the art pieces? Maybe I want to worship them too!” she says smoothly, making Ina blush furiously. 

Unable to resist Amelia’s puppy face, she grabs the tie around her neck, tugging her coser. “And I’m the one with the corny humor?”. Bringing their lips together again, Ina smiles into the kiss.

But, Amelia being Amelia, hands find their way back to Ina’s hips, backing her up against the altar and as her tongue darts out, teasing Ina’s lips. Allowing herself to get lost in the moment, and very much unwilling to push away Amelia, Ina grants her access. Her head starts spinning when Amelia deepens the kiss, seeking for more contact, for more friction. Wrapping her arms around Amelia’s neck, Ina’s head falls back as the detective moves down to her neck, leaving a trail of open kisses, dragging her tongue at the junction of her collarbone. 

“Ameliaaaaa…”, Ina menaces, dragging the last syllable in a light warning. Still, her body reacts immediately and suddenly the fresh air of the evening doesn’t seem so fresh anymore. 

Ina makes the grave mistake of trying to adjust her position, moving her arms from around Amelia’s neck to place them behind her on the altar in an attempt to get some space between her and Amelia, but only manages to nudge the detective’s tight between her legs. She doesn’t manage to repress completely a muffled moan when Amelia’s thigh presses against her crotch. 

When she meets Amelia’s eyes, her breath hitches. Amelia’s gaze is hungry, devouring her whole; it makes her spine tremble with want, and her fingers itch to touch Amelia. She knows her desire is showing on her face, still she tries to regain her composure.

“Yes, Ina’nis?” 

Her composure breaks at the sound of Amelia’s low, seducing tone.

Amelia steps even impossibly closer, and Ina can feel her breathing against her own chest. Her eyes are dark, and hungry, matching the toothy grin she gives her that sends shivers through Ina’s body. She feels like she’s burning up; Amelia is the flame, and she only wants to become ashes. Her back is pressed against the carved stone of the altar, and she flexes her fingers, hoping that the cold sensation of the worked stone’s asperity through her gloves would anchor her. It doesn’t. 

She swallows hard, her breath becomes shallow; she cannot detach her eyes from Amelia’s gaze. The latter leans in, pressing their body against the altar and places her hands on Ina’s, her lips a mere inch away. When she breathes, Ina can feel the hot air against her skin, and it drives her crazy. 

Struggling to control her voice, Ina stammers out with a shaky laugh. “I- I don’t think the Ancient Ones would be pleased about us doing… _this_ , at their altar.”

Amelia’s answer is immediate, and implacable. “Maybe I don’t care what They think, nor what They want.” 

Her eyes drift down Ina’s body, her eyes sharp and meticulous like when she’s analyzing one of Ina’s paintings, expertly and knowingly. Like she wants to absorb every detail, engraving them in her memory. Ina’s heart speeds up as she continues. 

“Maybe, right now, I only care about what _you_ want.”

Amelia doesn’t move, and Ina perfectly knows she won’t. Not until Ina tells her to. As Ina shoots a glance at the carved statues framing the shrine, looking down on her as if disapproving, her heart hammers in her chest to the beat of a song only Amelia knows the melody to. Her body pulsating at the proximity of the one she loves most; the heat rises in her core. 

She gives in. In one swift motion, unlacing the ribbon around her waist, she lets down her robes and her inhibitions. 

She sees the fire flare up in Amelia’s eye and it goes straight to her crotch; she can already feel the wetness grow. She leans down, lovingly, patient, and utterly aroused, brushing her lips against Amelia’s. Two could play at the teasing game. The girl lets out a small whimper and she twitches slightly, wordlessly begging for more but Ina doesn’t grant it. Not yet. She wants to savour the moment. She wants to take her time, the fact that she knows Amelia is anything but patient is part of the fun. 

She brings her hand to Amelia’s cheek who immediately leans in, closing her eyes. It makes Ina’s chest flutter. Amelia held so much trust and love in her heart, and she keeps placing them in Ina’s hands, recklessly. It makes Ina’s ribcage swell with love, and it makes her want to sink her teeth into Amelia and never let go. Overwhelmed by her emotions, she brings her lips to Amelia, kissing her with tenderness, as they meld into the kiss. For a moment, it’s all that exists in the world. Amelia smiles against her. 

“I love you.”, Ina whispers because she cannot contain it. Amelia kisses her again in return. 

When she pulls back, her mouth twists into a mischievous smile that Ina adores so. 

“Show me.” 

The need in her voice tugs at Ina’s heart, because there is something that goes beyond the physical need. Something brewing behind Amelia’s eyes that makes desperately her seek Ina’s reassurance and comfort. Ina doesn’t know what it is but she doesn’t need to, because there is nothing Amelia could ask of her that she wouldn’t do without hesitation, without restraint. 

She takes Amelia’s hand in hers, and moves to leave the room, already picturing Amelia sprawled out beneath her under the dim light of their room, grasping at the sheets of the bed, but Amelia doesn’t budge, pinning her in place against the altar of her Gods. Something flutters in Ina’s stomach, and she’s not sure if it’s from guilt or desire, or maybe both. She shoots a quizzy look at Amelia, unsure. 

“Here.”

It’s not a demand, nor a request. It’s a plea, and Ina’s heart falters. She lets herself drown in the sky of Amelia’s eyes, and shuts down everything around her, only focusing on her beloved in front of her. The voices in her heads fade, and the stone gods around her vanish, only to leave Amelia, just Amelia. 

“Really looking for damnation, are you?” The tone is joking, with a hint of melancholy. Amelia’s smile mirrors it.

“Maybe I’m not scared of your Gods. After all, they can’t make you chant Their names like I can make you chant mine.”

The smile twists into a smirk. A jolt of desire spikes through Ina’s brain because Amelia is so smug and complacent and _so gods damn sexy_. However, she refuses to lose the game, and she brings her hand to Amelia’s collarbone, pressing against the flesh and she swears she can feel Amelia’s erratic heartbeats vibrating. She slides up her gloved hand, fingers loosely wrapping around her neck. Amelia’s mask of confidence shatters as desire takes over. Her breath shakes as Ina moves a leather-clad finger to her lips. 

“What a blasphemous sinner you are.” 

Ina’s voice is low and imposing, resonating against the carved cobblestone as she straightens up, her stature gaining in grandor; the light coming through the stained glass behind her frames her form with a divine glow and Amelia thinks that this is the closest to heaven she’ll ever get. 

She guides Amelia’s head to her bare chest, a silent order. Without a second to spare, Amelia takes one of her breasts in her mouth, palming the other with her hand. She revels in Ina's moans like they are psalms, pressing her tongue against the nipple, letting her teeth graze the sensitive flesh. The hand against her scalp tenses, tugging on her hair, and she growls. With a hint of disappointment, Amelia lets go, looking back up at purple eyes. 

“Such little regards you give this place.” Ina continues, a dark glow behind her pupils. It makes Amelia water at the mouth, and her chest starts heaving. “At an altar, you ought to pay your respects.”

The gloved finger traces the outside of her jaw until Ina places her hand under her chin, fingers curling and digging into her skin; she tilts Amelia’s head up as she approaches her lips incruciatibly slowly, and out of reach. 

“Kneel”. 

Amelia shamelessly lets out a pathetic whimper at the command, her knees almost giving out on the spot. Still, she focuses on moving slowly, because she knows it’s what Ina wants. Eyes fixated upon Ina, she lowers down; her knees hit the cobblestone floor softly, and the contrast between the cold rock and her burning skin is maddening. 

From her position, looking up at her, Ina is nothing less but divine. Amelia takes in the sight of her, standing over her, powerful and loving, carving it into every neuron of her brain. If she remembers nothing else, she only wants to remember Ina. As the black hair falls down on her shoulder, like a curtain of ink, the sunset wrapping her slender form in a second skin of dim light, Amelia thinks she can only be a vision, for no mortal should be able to touch something this sacred. 

Yet Ina reaches out to her, and the contact on her skin is the most real thing Amelia will ever know. 

Fingers caress her hair, first gently, reassuring, then press on her skull with a bit more insistence and Amelia knows what this means. Eagerly, she presses her lips just above the knee, letting her hands explore the exposed skin with adoration, like a brush of painter in love. She moves up, kissing the inner of her thigh already wet with desire, until she reaches her crotch. Ina’s arousal is evident, and the smell of it is intoxicating. Amelia begins with a slow lick on the length of her slit, dragging a low moan out of Ina whose breath is smothered in her lungs. Spreading Ina’s leg with her hands, she teases her gently, nibbling at the skin, savouring the way Ina trembles at every lick, the way her voice breaks in needy pants until Amelia’s name is the only thing left on Ina’s lips, like a holy laudation. 

She knows the priestess body like nothing else, and she expertly brings her closer to the edge, alternating between long, coaxing licks on her folds, occasionally dipping her tongue inside, and quick laps on her clitoris. She works her until her jaw aches, until her chin is dripping with her drool and Ina’s pleasure, and Ina’s hands are gripping the back of her head, pulling on the hair, scratching her nape and her heels digging into her back. 

The pull on her hair becomes painful, and Amelia revels in it. Ina’s feverish moans are a litany to her heart. With a final lick, teeth grazing her clitoris, Ina ascends, clasping her thighs around Amelia’s head. Her body is overtaken by uncontrollable spasms, coaxed gently by Amelia who continues her ministrations, slowing down as Ina rides out her orgasm. 

Ina’s body finally gradually relaxes, releasing Amelia from her grasp as she leans back on her elbows, head falling back, gasping for air. Amelia stares with adoration, with devotion. As Ina’s skin is covered with sweat, she glistens in the low light like an apparition, and it makes Amelia want to pray.

Getting back on her feet, she leaves a trail of kisses up Ina’s body, the salty sweat like sacramental wine on her lips, until she reaches her face. She wraps her arms around Ina, caressing her softly as the latter comes down from her high. 

Ina’s vision eventually clears, the clouds of pleasure slowly dissipating, and she opens her eyes to find Amelia’s adoring gaze, face still wet from her own pleasure. The beast inside Ina growls, thrashing inside her ribcage. She grabs the back of Amelia’s neck, crashing their lips together in a demanding kiss. Amelia complies immediately, parting her lips to let Ina’s devour her. When she pulls back, regarding her beloved offering herself so completely to her, Ina struggles to keep herself in check. She wants to let everything out, all she keeps taming all day long, and just _ravish_ Amelia. 

She pulls back from the altar, her gaze pinning Amelia in place who knows better than to move without permission. She hears the disappointed sigh of the detective when she circles around her, placing herself right behind Amelia. With one hand, she pushes on Amelia’s back, making her lean over the altar, elbows on the stone. She bends down, letting a trail of open kisses on Amelai’s neck and delights at the sights of the shivers running through her skin. After moments of teasing, she finally sinks her teeth in and Amelia releases a loud groan of relief, laced with desire. The sounds reverberate through the empty shrine, bouncing against the representation of eldritch gods, and the sheer _wrongness_ of it, the guilt of what they were doing in a place this sacred almost makes Ina climax again. 

Eventually, her hands reach Amelia’s belt which hits the cobblestone with a metallic sound at their feet. As one hand slowly crawls up to Amelia’s chest, fingers playing with the hard nipples, Amelia speaks up. 

“Keep the gloves on, please.”, she begs, panting helplessly. 

Ina breaks character for a moment, giggling against Amelia’s neck, joined by Amelia’s shaky laugh, lined with brazen want. Composing herself, she gets back to the task at hand, namely, making a mess of Amelia Watson. 

With one hand, still wrapped in leather at Amelia’s demand, she dips down, crassessing Amelia’s folds, gathering the slickness of her arousal on her fingers. Amelia trembles at the touch; her elbows shake and Ina can feel the moans she’s suppressing. It makes the dark thing inside Ina roar. She brings her lips to Amelia’s ear, slowing licking the sensitive skin until she catches the earlobe, teeth nibbling on it for a moment before she whispers:

“Don’t hold back, Amelia. I want to hear you sing for me.”

Immediately, the response comes in the form of a groan, loud and compact with pleasure. As a reward, she bites down on Amelia’s shoulder, hard, drawing blood. The sound that escapes Amelia’s mouth makes her head spin. She wants to hear it again, until Amelia’s voice cracks. Ina’s lips stretch into a satisfied smile as Amelia’s panting becomes more erratic and loud, echoing in the air around them. She brings her fingers, wet from Amelia to the girl’s mouth who takes them in without complaints, tasting herself as her tongue swirls around the leather. 

With her other hand, leaving Amelia’s breast with a final pinch, she glides back down, finally reaching her sex, and lets a finger slowly circle on her clitoris. Amelia drops her head against the altar as the shrine fills up with wanting whines. She takes her time, exploring, teasing, coaxing Amelia into oblivion with a slow tempo, rhythmed by her needy whimpers; the sounds are like a symphonic choir to her ears and Ina is the master. She feels Amelia’s body tense more and more as she released high pitch squeals, uncontrolled and uninhibited. 

Amelia’s voice is raspy and raw with pleasure, repeating Ina’s name like prayer. It’s almost too much for Ina, the air around her crackles as she feels her power grow alongside Amelia’s orgasm. She pushes it back though. This was not about her; this was for Amelia, and Amelia only, as Ina poured all her love and adoration into worshiping her body. 

Ina’s name on Amelia’s lips becomes begging, which then becomes incoherent mumbles and her limbs tremble like glass during a thunderstorm. Ina pulls out her fingers from Amelia’s mouth and places them on the girl's hand, interlacing their fingers against the altar. Amelia’s brain, overwhelmed with the sensation, still manages to process the information and she squeezes Ina’s hand, holding on to her like a sinner grasping at forgiveness. 

“You’re doing great, Amelia. Such a good girl. You’re so good to me.”, Ina soothes and Amelia clenches abruptly around her fingers. 

She’s almost there, Ina can feel it. Still, she keeps the pace slow and steady, toying with her, teasing her entrance before entering her, just to pull back again, ignoring the whines of protest. She wants to teach Amelia patience, and let her feel every instant, savouring every moment. 

Letting her lips graze Amelia’s neck, she presses herself harder against the girl’s body, like she wants to melt inside of her and just become one with her, an unholy communion. Amelia’s hips buck against her wrist, seeing even more friction, and Ina complies, increasing the pace of her strokes. 

“I love seeing you like that, my love.”, she hums into the crook of Amelia’s neck. “So needy, so wrecked and helpless, just for me.”

“O-only for you.”, Amelia manages out, breathlessly, and it makes Ina’s heart spike. 

She holds Amelia impossibly closer, possessive and enamored, and she thinks she’s the most blessed person in the world. 

“You can come for me now, Amelia. I want to see you undone.”, she commands, curling her fingers abruptly against Amelia’s walls in one final thrust, brushing against the hood of her vagina, bringing down her teeth one last time on the flesh of Amelia’s shoulder. 

Amelia finally lets go, and unravels around Ina. Her body jolts as she cries out her release. Ina holds her, guiding her through her pleasure. Amelia’s knees and elbow give under her, and Ina catches her before she hits the altar, wrapping an arm around her waist. Amelia slouches against her, her head falling back against Ina’s collarbone as a low moan drags out of her throat, and heaven dances before her closed eyelids. 

After seconds, minutes or an eternity, consciousness slowly comes back to her, the fog overwhelming her brain clearing out, and all she can feel is Ina. Her smell, her arm around her, her lips, leaving tender kisses along her neck, the fingers that slowly pull out of her, making her jerk from the overstimulation; she feels utterly holy. 

Eventually, with a voice she doesn’t even recognise as her own, she says, exhausted. “I think I need to sit down for a bit. That was- just- wow.” 

Words, and limbs failing her, she lets Ina guide her down to the floor, leaning her back against the altar. Her vision still a bit blurred, she sees Ina, stark naked body bare her leather clad hands, glorious and sumptuous, wicked and sacred, watching her with such love irradiating from her, she loses the little breath she has left. 

Ina retrieves the robes on the floor,, wrapping the cloth around her and Amelia can’t help but feel a little disappointed. As Ina sits down at her side, Amelia lets her body fall into her beloved, nestling comfortably against her. A gentle hand finds her hair, petting it gently and Amelia is sure is purring of content. It’s only when she feels Ina’s thumb against her cheek, wiping something wet on her skin that she realises she is crying. 

Embarrassed, she tries to avert her eyes, but Ina doesn’t let her. Instead, she brings her lips to Amelia’s cheeks, kissing softly the tears away. Amelia laughs, as happiness overrides her brain. 

“Gods, I love you.” The words leave her chest like an arrow, straightforward and true. 

Ina’s cheek takes on a pink tint. “You honor me, Amelia Watson.” 

She brings their forehead together, and everything else around them vanishes, for in this moment, there are only two bodies, two souls, and two hearts, beating as one in the entire world. 

“You’re the best thing that will ever happen to me.”, Amelia breathes out. 

Ina frowns for a split second, confused at the phrasing, but then Amelia kisses her and she can remember nothing else but the taste of her on her lips.

If this was damnation, Ina never wants to be holy again. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> nooo don't switch pov in the middle of a fic withtout section break, ur so sexy
> 
> hmm, anyway, if you're teased a little by the end, first of all: hehehe, also, it's because i have a lot of vague ideas in my head for potential other works that could tie into this one, but i also might get lazy and write nothing. nevertheless, i chose to let myself have the option to do so
> 
> if you haven't already, go listen to 'false god' by taylor swift


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